


Professional

by spicedrobot



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Bondage, Bottom Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Breathplay, Centaur Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Centaurs, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Hand Jobs, Human Genji Shimada, Jealousy, M/M, Master/Pet, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Minor Genji Shimada/Tekhartha Zenyatta, Minor Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, Scenting, Sex Toys, Sort Of, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Genji Shimada, Top Jesse McCree, ask to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:41:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27314230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicedrobot/pseuds/spicedrobot
Summary: Gabe's never been paired before, and Jesse's not sure if he wants him to be.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Genji Shimada
Comments: 3
Kudos: 40





	Professional

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CaptainNeedsNoSleep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainNeedsNoSleep/gifts).



> For Cap, since I know your love of threesomes and centaurs. ;3c

Jesse’s been in charge of the stables for the better part of a decade. It’s not a big operation, but that’s by choice. He likes managing the day to day, hands on where others prop up their feet and pencil push from their offices. He’s got pride in having a personal touch: a tried and true professional.

That’s why he shouldn’t have favorites.

Though centaurs aren’t at all like children, they are in his care, and more importantly, they’re keen beasts. They catch onto the slightest shift in body language, gauge emotions like high stakes gamblers, and that’s even before they’ve opened their mouths. Jesse thinks he does decently well at hiding his preferences. Mostly. 

He finishes the daily maintenance checks and signs off on a few orders before he enters the main stable. If his gut’s anything to go by, he wouldn’t be up for busy work later. His gait is slow and practiced as Jesse rounds the corner to the finest stall in the place, fighting a smirk when he spots the faint sheen upon its occupant’s skin. Today would be a particularly delightful handful.

“Morning, Gabe.”

The centaur doesn’t acknowledge him past the faint twist of satin ears. He’s a large one, even for his class, coat lustrous and black, fading seamlessly into muscled, umber skin. His tail is short and braided, as meticulously kept as his close-cropped hair. Gabe had been a wild one before the stables, and he still hated accessories that inhibited movement. Jesse wishes he could’ve seen Gabe in his youth, righteous and gleaming, weapons raised and brackish with blood. 

He waits patiently for Gabe’s acknowledgement. The centaur’s eyes are dark when they finally find his. An unreadable look to most, but he’d known Gabe too long to let the silent treatment disturb him.

“When you are done with your staring contest, bring him to the dressing area,” a deep voice calls from the other end of the aisle. 

Genji stands in the doorway to the corral, backlit by the morning sun. Too quick on his feet, quiet as a ghost and just as chilling when he wanted to be, but always around when Jesse needed him.

“Morning to you too, Genji,” Jesse murmurs. “Here that, Reyes? It’s going to be a special day.”

The centaur grunts, but he’s already glancing off to the side, the faintest color tinging his cheeks.

“Yesterday’s introduction went well. That blonde took a shine to ya.” Jesse grabs the lead off its hook and undoes the latch to Gabe’s stall. “Now we have to make sure you’re in working order for your little date.”

“Date…” Gabe repeats, deadpan, tail flicking. “Right.”

It’s not hard to guess what Gabe’s imagining, what he’s anticipating. The blond had been a sight to behold, and it was rare that one matched Gabe in brawn and looks. Jack had given the other centaur such a once over it had nearly made Jesse blush. A faint, familiar prickle settles in his belly. He supposes he’ll see a lot that’ll make him blush in the coming days.

Jesse holds out the lead to Gabe expectantly. Gazes lock once more, challenge bright and considering. Gabe’s never been good at submission, even when he wants it more than anything. Slowly, inch by inch, the centaur dips his head, allowing Jesse to attach the soft leather lead to his collar.

“Very nice. That’s a good start.”

Gabe scoffs, but he follows without complaint. There’s even a quickness to clicks of his shoes. Anticipation, nervousness, perhaps. He’d been a kept man for nearly as long as Jesse’s tenure, but he’s also untried, too stubborn to behave unless it was on his own, strict terms. Though Gabe had no doubt seen what would be in store. Reinhardt and Lúcio had done their fair share of pairings, and their newest acquisition was shaping up to be the perfect teaser, disposition gentle and capricious. He wonders if that’s where Genji had been so early in the morning. The teaser’s stall sat suspiciously empty. 

“He is in the pasture,” Genji says, not allowing his gaze to follow Jesse’s. “He enjoys watching the sun rise.”

“You’re too sweet on him. Gonna make Gabe here jealous!”

“Shut up, McCree,” snap their replies in near unison. 

Jesse laughs a little too hard.

They clean Gabe in the dressing stall. It’s menial but comfortable work, hosing him down, lathering his hide and hair while Gabe does little more than bask. There’s a reason Jesse calls him boss: Gabe expected to be served. Not that Jesse minds too much, not when Gabe shivers beneath his hands, relaxes into his touch. Brushing follows next until Gabe’s coat is silky and shining. He’s trance-like as Jesse shaves his beard and Genji rebraids his tail, the sounds of quiet conversation and stone beneath hoof dull and far off.

“Never told us what we should put on your preference list,” Jesse murmurs. He slides his fingers across Gabe’s jaw, relishing smooth texture and sharp angles.

Gabe peers at him sleepily, then purses his lips.

“Position preference,” Genji says. 

“Something tells me you like to check both boxes.”

“Bet you’re dying to know, boy,” Gabe retorts, but Jesse only grins. 

“Now, now. We’ll find out soon, won’t we? Suppose we’ll prepare you for both and see how you do. Send our notes to your new suitor.”

They rub oil into his skin, smoothed over stomach and arms and chest, working away the stubborn tension that always clung to him. Jesse doesn’t quite remember when Gabe started to let his guard down around them, when he had finally closed his eyes and let his breathing slow in their presence. No deep line between his brows, lips softly curved, chest rising and falling, slow and steady. Jesse can’t look away. 

It’s almost a shame to rouse Gabe from such a state, but breathtaking or no, they got a job to do. He leads Gabe to a room adjacent with Genji silently falling into step at his side. It’s a private space, mostly, sturdy wood and soundproof walls. Not that most minded an audience, but some of them were shy things, and Jesse prioritized their comfort. At the far end of the room is a tall, padded structure, nearly the same height as Gabe’s bestial half.

“I know it doesn’t look too appealing, but I promise we’ll make it good for ya.”

He peeks over his shoulder. Gabe’s face is stony but charmingly flushed, and he doesn’t quite meet Jesse’s eye.

“Let’s just get this over with.”

The centaur towers over Jesse, all of them do, but size is only that. Jesse leans in close.

“How would you like to start, boss? Front or back?”

Gabe shivers as Jesse’s words curl along his shoulder. He takes a measured breath.

“Well?” 

“...front.” 

Gabe’s steps slow as they approach the cushioned pummel, but he doesn’t resist. He lets Jesse draw his arms behind his back and secure them, lets him tether his lead to the ring at the front of the pummel. There’s some give but not much, mostly for safety. Centaurs could get ornery when the rut hit. Genji busies himself with collecting supplies from the storage unit as Jesse strolls up the elevated platform that flanks one side of the pummel.

“One more thing, but you know what it is already, don’t you?”

The small case in Jesse’s back pocket is innocuous, yet as soon as Jesse opens it, Gabe’s eyes snap to him, wide and searching.

“That’s a promising reaction.” The handkerchief is cornflower blue, checkered and faded. “A token from your suitor, lovingly scented.”

“Stop teasing him so much, McCree,” Genji says, but he’s watching closely too, eyes bright above the black cloth mask that covered most of his face.

Jesse shrugs his shoulders. “What’s the point if you can’t have a little fun at work?” 

He studies Gabe closely as he secures the cloth over his mouth and nose. It reminds him of those old cartoons, a trussed up damsel in distress, though Gabe isn’t struggling. His eyes go glossy in seconds. He takes a deep breath and holds it, lashes fluttering.

“There you go, Gabe. Just like that.” 

Jesse threads his fingers through the short crop of hair along Gabe’s scalp, watching his body flush before his very eyes. He kisses Gabe’s forehead, then his cheek, just above the edge of the handkerchief. Jesse doesn’t pick up on anything besides the smell of hay and peppery warmth, but watching Gabe’s eyes sink to half-mast is a tantalizing sight. Relaxing again, but in a completely different way.

He traces his fingers along Gabe’s shoulders, down to the hair on his chest, tracing the paths he had followed not half and hour before in a much less intimate fashion. Dark nipples peak against his fingers, and Gabe presses into his touch, head lolling forward. Technically, Jesse doesn’t need to do this, but God, does he want to. He likes to think the added attention is what makes his stable a head above the rest, but really, it’s more than that.

“Think he’s ready for action, Genji.”

Jesse slips a finger beneath Gabe’s chin, holds his gaze until Gabe comes back to him, eyes focusing with soft curiosity and heat.

“You ain’t got to do anything you don’t want to, Gabe.”

“A bit late for that,” he mumbles.

“Nonsense. Never too late to have second thoughts,” Jesse says, seriously, before a smile tugs the edges of his lips. “Y’might have a little trouble managing, but I’m sure you could work it out yourself. No harm no foul.” 

“Don’t…” Gabe’s jaw tightens. “Don’t leave me like this.”

Jesse’s smile softens. “Course not. Well take good care of ya, won’t we, Genji?” 

Genji nods, pets a hand down Gabe’s side, muscles twitching beneath his palm. Jesse presses a kiss to Gabe’s mouth, the cotton separating their lips damp, faintly sweet. Gabe’s trying to focus on him, even when they’re less than an inch apart. Watching. Waiting for him to move. He wonders if Gabe would touch him back if he was free to do so. With the way the way his arms flex against the leathers, he has a pretty good guess.

He tugs the bandana down, gives Gabe a good, proper kiss, one that has Gabe surging into him. The centaur’s tongue slides against his, large and hot and eager. Gabe grunts against the smile he can no doubt feel pressed to his lips.

Jesse sets his hands to working Gabe’s chest again, fingers slick with residual oil, plucking and twisting his nipples carefully. As he draws his thumbs over and over the swelling peaks, Gabe breaks the kiss, gasps against Jesse’s cheek. Gabe leans into everything he gives him, aching for calloused palms, resting his head on Jesse’s shoulder and moaning before he remembers himself, mouth snapping shut.

“Good with his hands, I know. You’ve seen him at it before, right? In the open stall with the ones who ain’t too keen on privacy.” He can’t see what Genji’s doing from this angle, but he’d been at the mercy of his hands a time or two himself. Jesse can’t keep the heated smirk from his face. 

“You been stubborn as all hell since the day I met you. Is this all it takes to make you sweet?” Jesse says into his hair. “Is our little ninja just that good? Or maybe you always dreamed of getting put in your place.”

“McCree,” Genji murmurs, warning in his tone.

He feels Gabe’s fists curl, tension tightening the line of his shoulders and outlining the veins of his throat. Jesse expects a finely worded swear, a withering look, all things he’s become accustomed to, things he’s taken in stride, hell, that he enjoyed. Instead, Gabe bites the side of Jesse’s neck, not hard enough to break skin, but hard enough that Jesse starts, groaning at the sudden, answering throb between his legs. Well, two can play at that game.

Jesse twists one of Gabe’s nipples and relishes in his sweat, answering hiss. Not completely in anger.

“Like it a bit rough, don’t you? I’ll be sure to let blondie know.” He wraps the extra length of lead around his fist, draws it taut. Gabe’s face blooms scarlet, a flash of pearl-white teeth as Jesse strangles out his moan. It’s a good look on him, shiny-eyed and desperate. Power like the sweetest wine rushes through him, sweeter that Gabe gives it freely. Soon Jesse’d be handing him off, rut-struck and so much needier than he is now. He’d have to observe closely. Gabe’s his, he realizes, wants to keep it that way. 

“Maybe we’ll pierce these before I send you along? Something pretty. Let everyone know you’re mine.”

“Jesse,” Gabe bites, soft, a little loss. “I…”

“Harder, Genji,” Jesse drawls. 

Gabe bites his lip, whine lodged in his throat.

“He is close,” Genji replies softly.

Jesse chances a look at the smaller man, keeping the lead tight. Genji’s hand is hidden by the curve of Gabe’s flank, but his forearm muscles flex and shift, working the centaur’s cock in firm, long strokes. The AV is at his side, waiting and ready. Genji preferred to use his hands, more skilled at it, though Jesse ain’t sure anything could be better than slotting inside a wet, silken sleeve. Not that he’ll complain about the show, not with Gabe groaning into his shoulder, shirt damp with spittle. He’s starting to shake, footing unsure. His heart slams beneath Jesse’s palms as he gropes down his clavicle and chest, wishing the pale indentations would take on a mean, lingering red; marks for all to see. 

“Are you, Gabe? Close?” Jesse says. It comes out a hoarse whisper. “You gonna be good for us and come?”

Even though he owed Ana the favor. Even if Jack is a good match. It ain’t how he’s supposed to feel, not this sinking twist of possessiveness coiling in his chest. 

A poisonous grimace replaces his easy smirk, motions harsh and quick as Gabe curls over him and yells into his throat. Jesse collects himself in time and tugs the lead, forcing Gabe’s fore legs up the pummel into mounting position. Genji moves on cue: slips Gabe’s cock into the AV as he begins to thrust. The centaur’s eyes snap open, his broken growl overtaking the harried, slick sounds of the sleeve suctioning tight and wet. Jesse watches Gabe come apart, eyebrows drawn, mouth open on a long, silent cry as his thrusts slow and deepen, pressing and holding, nearly collapsing on the pummel as he shakes through the aftershocks. Jesse coos in his ear, rubs the back of Gabe’s neck, tugs one swollen nipple lazily as Gabe twists against it. 

“There we go, just let it do its thing,” Jesse whispers. It isn’t teasing. “So handsome like this.”

He isn’t sure Gabe is listening to him anymore, pupils drowned in black, eyes rolling upward, mouth open wide on each exhalation and whimper. He gives Gabe’s cheek a gentle tap, waiting for some semblance of clarity to return.

“Now. Why don’t we see about your other preferences?”


End file.
